


So I Know You're Safe

by Dancing_Burnt_Toast



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Non-Explicit Sex, Philinda - Freeform, Pre-Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Slow Dancing, Song Lyrics, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Burnt_Toast/pseuds/Dancing_Burnt_Toast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows that phoenixes can raise from the dead, but he wonders if they ever needed help reassembling themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So I Know You're Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ddagent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/gifts).



> This was a gift for ddagent.tumblr.com for the Philinda Secret Summer. The song mentioned in the fan fiction and the title's reference is to John Parr's song "The Minute I Saw You" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnvM9pQ1GhY.  
> This was originally posted on my tumblr at musingsofburnttoast.tumblr.com

Passing the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Operation’s E.F.M A.F.P. Exam (Exam for Measurement of Agent Fieldwork Preparedness) required performing feats such as escaping from restraints within an allotted time limit, shooting several moving targets while not shooting a “hostage,” (which was played by a doll once used to practice CPR) going through an obstacle course made the entrance exam look like an outing to Disneyland, and parallel parking a particularly bulky S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle, which young agents affectionately referred to as “Big Bessie.”

This was quite the undertaking, but provided agents with certification and level 4 clearance.  Young agents Melinda May, Phil Coulson and John Garrett had all passed. This warranted, at the very least, some dignified celebration amongst themselves, which they did by indulging in copious amounts of low-to-moderately priced alcohol.

...

"And what was that with the hostage scenario?” Phil slurred slightly, gesticulating over the coffee table where they were sitting. “The 'hostage'? Man, that was creepy."

His companions nodded in agreement. Melinda took another sip of her beer.

“Hey, don’t drink the whole thing!” John shouted, trying with little success to grab the bottle out of Phil’s hands. “I bought those schnapps, you son of a bitch.”

“You didn’t get any blackberry, so think of this as comeuppance.” Phil stammered a little on the last word.

Melinda turned to him. “Blackberry schnapps? That’s what you went into the store to get?”   

"And he had to go and get peppermint,” Phil said, pointing towards John with a jabbing finger. “Who gets peppermint schnapps?" He took another swig and grimaced. "Actually no," he coughed a few times before setting the bottle on the table. " _God, that's terrible._ It's like mouthwash." He rubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth in disgust.

John released a satisfied chuckle and May smirked as she wrapped an arm around Phil's shoulder.

Phil’s eyebrows raised in response.

The subsequent pregnant pause between them was ended when John suddenly chided: "God, get a room you two," his voice playful.

They couldn't remember the specifics the next day, but sometime within fifteen minutes John walked out the door, said something along like lines of "Goodnight, you guys," and probably took the schnapps with him considering they couldn't find it the next day.

...

"But that flip you did, Melinda. That was really cool," Phil told her later as they sat across each other  at the table.

"What flip?" she asked.

"The one against the wall when you had to dodge that thing. You were like-" he made a complicated hand gesture in attempt to better describe it and added a "whoosh," for good measure.

He looked at the wordless grin on her face. "What?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you," he retorted.

The radio played rock music in the background of Phil's room.

"Oh, I like this song," he turned up the volume knob of the radio. He tapped a foot to the beat of the music.

Melinda stood up and wiped her hands on her pants. "You wanna dance?"

"With you?" Phil clarified, voice quizzical.

"No, with John," she cast her eyes down in disappointment. She paused for a moment. "Of course with me!"

He placed his hands on her waist, as she in turn rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Think of this," she pulled him forward for a moment. "As practice."

"Practice for what?" His eyes widened.

"You never know when you'll need to slow dance undercover."

“True,” he agreed, nodding. Phil had heard this song several times before. He still had some fondness for it, as it hadn't yet crossed the threshold into "I've heard this song three times in one day, please shut it off." And because the alcohol had loosened his inhibitions, some of those inhibitions being knowing that he had an awful singing voice and should never under any circumstance sing, he started singing.  

" _Someone else could ever try for me.You would see that I wouldn't let her...._ " he sang a bit off-key and only loud enough for the two to hear him. His mouth was so close to her it practically touched her earlobe. " _Trust me, baby you're the only one. Trust me, don't let me be the lonely one_..." He couldn't stop the ends of his mouth from turning up as she erupted into a fit of laughter.

As the song continued, their postures relaxed. Melinda practically leaned against his chest and Phil's hands had migrated southward as they both swayed.

The song ended. Melinda looked up at him, her eyes shining with a charmed hesitation. Before either of them could comment on it, the gap between their faces disappeared. The change was so sudden, Phil didn't have the time to close his eyes before their lips met. Their kiss deepened, but managed to separate for long enough to get to the bed, take off their clothes...

...

Fitzsimmons usually played Classical music in the lab as they worked.

Skye would sometimes turn the station to loud pop or alternative, music Simmons would describe as "not conducive to scientific inquiry" and Phil Coulson would describe as "kind of obnoxious."

Phil walked into the empty room. It wasn't cluttered, but enough instruments were laid out that one could tell that somebody had been interrupted and _God,_ he hated that. He heard a faint noise, almost a buzzing and realized it was coming from the radio. He realized it had been turned down, but not off. He turned it up slightly and flipped through until he settled on station that played Classic Rock. He sat alone long enough to notice that the station was playing an '80's block. As he scanned the room he suddenly noticed that Melinda stood in the doorway. He had no idea how long she'd been standing there.

As his stare met her eyes, she took the few steps into the room and sat down at the chair next to him without saying anything.

"Hey," was the first thing Phil said to break the silence.

She didn't reply.

As he put his focus on the background noise in the room he suddenly registered the song that was playing. "Hey, remember this?"

She nodded.

If the somber mood in the room didn't threaten to choke all of its inhabitants, Phil might have described it as an "oldie, but a goodie," but it did, so he didn't.

"Wow," he said scratching the back of his neck. "It's had to be... Thirty years at least."

"At least," Melinda agreed and it seemed as if her expression had softened ever so slightly.

He smiled and offered a hand, his palm facing upwards. "May I have this dance?"

"What?" She asked, sharp with surprise.

"Sorry, I thought-" he quickly and firmly put his arm back to his side.

"No, I'll-," she got up and took his hand.

They looked at each other in silence for a few moments. They had done this countless times, slow dancing to play the part of lovers while they were undercover. The wife-husband duo that ran a technology company, a contract killer and her personal chef boyfriend, some particularly sloppy dancing they had to do when they were played a CEO and his mistress.

But now was different. They weren't playing the part of lovesick sweethearts or fueled by alcohol and a youthful lack of foresight. This was just a desire to touch and be touched. It was real and the authenticity of the action gave it a kind of austerity that was almost uncomfortable.

Phil's shoulders were still broad, yes, but had lost the sharpness that being at his physical prime and in his twenties provided. They both had so many more scars now. Phil could spot a thin, pale line on Melinda's forearm. They both knew that they had many more beneath their clothes. Phil had the remains of a jagged gash above his stomach that almost (scratch that) actually killed him. It had been seen by few and touched by even fewer.

...

_"You know I wouldn't lie to you_

_never would, you better believe me._

_I'll never say goodbye to you."_

...

Phil could remember some of the people he had gone to The Academy with and the few he had kept contact with. John Garrett, he'd been a traitor that had tried to kill them. And the others? Many SHIELD agents were still unaccounted for since HYDRA came back into power. It would be overly optimistic- no, naive to expect all of them to come home either alive or on their side.

...

_"As long as you need me._

_Trust me, baby you're the only one._

_Trust me, don't let me be the lonely one..."_

...

Melinda looked at Phil and saw a man who sometimes had an almost masochistic desire to help people redeem themselves, a man who'd she said "nice shirt" to their first day at The Academy, a boy who'd she'd snuck out with to watch the stars when he admitted in a ragged voice that he was starting to forget what his father's voice sounded like.

She remembered the announcement, the shock that went through the whole office. She’d locked herself in a bathroom stall because she couldn’t work on anything while she was shaking.

The clicking of high heels against tile as someone walked into the room. “Agent May, there’s a call for you. I think it’s important.”

The urgent tone of the voice on the phone. Meeting Director Nick Fury himself. A complicated explanation that became a blur.

She had swallowed before confirming _“He’s alive?”_

“Yes.” He explained the T.A.H.I.T.I. Project, the implanted memories, he’d shown her some footage from before and after the surgeries. Many of the patients had been before Phil had left the program. They were difficult to watch, but to be honest, she had see much worse in her years in the field. But then Phil's face, a shot of an operating table. _"Let me die... Please let me die."_

"Turn it off," she demanded, trying to keep her voice even.

"Agent May-"

_"Turn it off,"_ she hissed through clenched teeth.

...

He'd realized a long time ago that a Phil Coulson that had never met Melinda May, daughter of a secret agent, all those years ago would be very different from the man he was now. (And Melinda May knew vice-versa would also be true)

He was mad as hell about the whole thing. The organization he'd practically devoted his whole life to not only lied to him, was chock full of Nazi double agents, and the closest thing he had to a best friend pretended he hadn't been brainwashed to forget he died and would have continued even longer with the charade if things hadn't gotten in her way.

He knows that phoenixes can raise from the dead, but he wonders if they ever needed help reassembling themselves.

...

_"I've waited all my life for you._

_Yeah, it's true, you better believe me._

_There ain't nothin I would hide from you..."_

...

Melinda wondered why she was still face to face with Phil even after all of this. She wasn't the kind of person to believe in fate. Fate was a load of bullshit. It was also her opinion that the world was and would constantly be plagued with random events that made little sense and would cause unimaginable pain and destruction with often no explanation. But it was also her duty to protect this world. Perhaps they were part of one of the few things in the world that made sense, were part of a bigger plan.

Perhaps they were supposed to save each other. Perhaps they were supposed to create a new SHIELD, a better SHIELD. Perhaps they were just an agent of few words and a well meaning man whose paths had crossed by chance.

As song ended, they continued to hold onto each other for a few brief moments. When one of them pulled away, they looked at each other.

"That was nice," Phil commented mildly, putting his hands into his pockets.

She continued to stare at him heavy eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She replied by grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him in for a kiss that tasted like salt water and relief. They separated.

She touched the side of his face. "I'm so glad I didn't lose you."

He placed his hand on her hand. "Me too, Melinda."

...

_"I wanna wrap my arms around you so I know you're safe. So I know you're safe..."_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) Please give kudos/comment/bookmark if you enjoyed it.


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